


In The Eye Of The Beholder

by Mister_Fox



Series: beware beware the yellow door, the one that wasn't there before [2]
Category: Bleach, The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Faked Death, Ichigo is confused as fuck but ready to play along, M/M, Monsters, Secret Identity, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24303484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mister_Fox/pseuds/Mister_Fox
Summary: Ichigo's not going to let someone just get eaten on his watch. He's just not sure what he needs to do about it.Kisuke, at least, seems to be far less at a loss for ideas than him.UraIchi Week 2020 - Day 1, Identity Reveal
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke, Urahara Kisuke/Kurotsuchi Mayuri/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: beware beware the yellow door, the one that wasn't there before [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737916
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25
Collections: UraIchi Week 2020





	In The Eye Of The Beholder

“I’m so sorry,” Ichigo says once the tape finishes playing. Kisuke had been sitting in the breakroom, waiting for his friend to finish giving his statement before they went home. The tape had been the easiest way to explain what happened. Or, at least, prove that a door that _hadn’t been there before_ had eaten Mayuri, and then just- vanished.

“It is not your fault.” Kisuke doesn’t even have the decency to _sound_ accusatory, despite the fact that this is pretty much entirely Ichigo’s fault. Just resigned. “I should have… Well. No use talking about should-haves. There is little to be done to change the past. We should be focused on what we can do in the present.” Maybe not _resigned_. Grimly determined.

“What _can_ we do? I don’t really know enough, honestly, I think I’m only scratching the surface of what the hell is going on”

Kisuke smiles. It’s a strange, unsettling thing that doesn’t look like it belongs to him, that makes him look like a stranger, for all that Ichigo’s known him for months now. It looks _bitter_. But Kisuke doesn’t _do_ bitter.

“There is much you don’t know about my past, Ichigo. I am not as, ah, _blind_ to the supernatural as I may have made an impression of being. There is someone I will need help contacting for this affair, however. He has… very peculiar security measures. But it will have to be done from my home. I would appreciate some assistance.”

Well… everyone has secrets. And Kisuke hanging around the Institute so much… well, it does make a little more sense if he knows more than he let on. If Kisuke’s been deliberately watching the Archives, it’s probably not to _Ichigo’s_ detriment. Whatever the real reason may be.

Not that Ichigo wouldn’t, perhaps, have _liked_ to know this sort of thing about someone he was sorta-dating, but… well. If it was meant to be ancient history, Ichigo doesn’t care to know it. He already spent too much time digging things up. And everyone’s allowed their privacy.

“I’ll help. What do we need to do?”

“We need a way to call on the Distortion, and a way to trap it. I have an _acquaintance_ who has things that would aid us with that.”

* * *

Ichigo sits down on a kitchen chair, watching Kisuke retrieve a laptop and a book from behind a fake panel in the wall with a sense of general _unease_. It’s not a laptop he recognises, and when Kisuke opens is, Ichigo notes that it has clearly been dismantled and rebuilt, to remove a camera.

Kisuke hands him the book, first.

“Read the first line on the first page, please. Not aloud, and no more than that.”

Ichigo glances at the title.

_A Disappearance._

He opens it, glancing at the inside of the cover.

_From the Library of Nezi A._

“Er…”

“A single line will do no harm, merely hide you from any eyes that may be turned towards you. My contact likes secrecy, and considering how many people are… not particularly fond of him, it is not an unwise measure.”

Well, he really hopes Kisuke knows what he’s doing.

Ichigo reads nothing more than the exact first line of the page before closing the book and shoving it away. The things are troublesome enough.

“For similar reasons, this laptop does not have a screen reader function, and I can not use it anymore. Let me explain what you will need to do…”

* * *

It takes twenty minutes for Kisuke to guide Ichigo _just_ through all the verification procedures before he can finally open a messenger app - not one he recognises, and possibly unique to this laptop, and whatever device the contact wants.

The one, single message he sends makes little sense to _him_ in terms of how it could be useful. A request to meet and trade valuable information, in exchange for the use of a room of the Mother of Puppets, or the Ceaseless Watcher, or preferably something tied to both, as well as something called _Master and Margarita_ , or something similar to it for the company they want to summon.

Well, it makes _some_ sense. The Web and Watcher might make the Madness weaker, if it is in their presence. The other thing… maybe to summon Szayel? Or something higher up the food chain, and friendlier.

The reply is near instant, a string of meaningless letters and numbers. To Ichigo, anyway.

Kisuke just nods, retrieves what looks to be like a blank, spiral-bound book, a duffel bag stored behind a couch, and calls a taxi to a location Ichigo doesn’t catch.

* * *

Tunnels. Another entrance to the tunnels under the Institute.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Ichigo stares at the yawning entrance of the doorway to a staircase that leads _down_.

“The chances of us dying are not very high, no. Here,” Kisuke hands him the duffel bag, and Ichigo opens it. “You may appreciate having a torch.

There is little in there _other_ than torches and back-up batteries. Some water, some food- a hint of a book, or two. But mostly torches. So Kisuke’s been down there… before whatever happened to his eyes.

“Ah, so you are the ones who contact me. How you have faked the former Archivist’s way of contacting me, I do not know, but I am _curious._ But not as much as I would like to keep living.”

Ichigo spins around, looking for the owner of the unfamiliar, silky smooth voice.

A tall man, maybe in his late thirties, with brown hair and glasses, stands just out of arm’s reach behind them. He has a messenger bag with several books sticking out of it, another open in his hands.

For some reason, Ichigo can’t shake the feeling that each and every single one of those tomes is very, very cursed.

And that the open book is a _weapon._

“Who are-” Ichigo draws back, stepping in between the stranger and Kisuke, but is interrupted.

“Now, now, Sousuke-san. You didn’t really think I was dead, did you? The _former Archivist_? But I suppose that if it has escaped even your notice that the name has been _taken_ from all those who knew it, then the plan worked well indeed.”

This _Sousuke_ frowns at Kisuke and then frowns harder as he looks at him.

“You are not of the Flesh or the Stranger, and yet you are _wrong._ How curious.”

“A careful application of the most fascinating editions of the _Portrait of Dorian Grey_ and _The Handmaid’s Tale_ have greatly aided me in faking my death, yes.”

Faking his death?

“Oh, I see. _Very_ clever. Ah, and of course, the blinding. You tested the theory. I did _wonder_ if that wouldn’t just _kill_ a realised Archivist.” Sousuke relaxes, closing his book and stowing it away. Ichigo breathes a silent sigh of relief. “Let us go into the tunnels, then. I am sure you have taken the right precautions, but it would not be unwise to be a little more certain that your former master is not able to see us.”

Kisuke inclines his head and lets Sousuke lead the way.

Ichigo closes the door behind them, and they descend into the dark tunnels, dry and empty.

“So, why _are_ you getting involved in what you managed to so cleanly escape? What exactly are you trying to summon and trap long enough for whatever your purpose is?”

“Your former assistant.”

Sousuke shrugs. Ichigo notes that he does not look _particularly_ surprised.

“Which one? I had a great deal of them - that doesn’t particularly narrow it down, you must understand.”

“The one you decided to feed to the Great Twisting, to see _what would happen_. He’s taken someone dear to me because you still haven’t cleared up _that_ mess.”

“Ah. My condolences for your loss. Vengeance is an understandable pursuit.”

“If all goes well, it’s merely retrieval.”

“Considering how much you know about these things, you are being remarkably optimistic.” Sousuke eyes Kisuke speculatively. “You have something up your sleeve, then.”

“My arms. I’m almost always wearing my clothes, you see.”

Ichigo can hear the restrained eye-roll.

“I had meant other than your _delightful_ self. Your new tendency to keep secrets is not one that appeals to me, I think.”

Wait. Is Sousuke _hitting on Kisuke_?

“Who are you, exactly?” Ichigo speaks up, at last, giving up on trying to remember the route they are taking through the tunnels.

Sousuke opens his mouth, pauses, his face contorting as if in pain before he answers. “Well, you have clearly already got _that_ part of being an Archivist sorted. My _name_ is Aizen Sousuke, and I would much appreciate not being _asked_ again.”

What the hell does that mean?

Kisuke snorts. “He’s your ‘least favourite librarian’, Ichigo. The one who thought collecting and hiding cursed books was a marvellous pastime until monsters showed up on his doorstep to let the books loose on the world again.

Aizen. Nezi A.

This is the asshole whose library keeps murdering people? Ichigo stares at him, but… Sousuke looks like a pretty average guy. If he’s Nezia… he looks rather young for his age.

This is the asshole who kept the fucking books that now keep killing people.

Ichigo’s fist is suddenly feeling kind of itchy.

“We have arrived.”

Ichigo stares at the unremarkable door before Aizen pulls it open, and walks inside.

Well… Kisuke doesn’t seem to think this is a trap. For all the absolute bizarre things that Ichigo’s finding out today, it’s not like he thinks Kisuke would purposefully lead them into one.

The room is… massive. Tall, sweeping arches fade away into a darkness that the torches aren’t strong enough to penetrate.

“Curious as to what you plan to do, I am not unwilling to stay and make sure the creature is trapped and harmless. However, as you are not able to use the books anymore… I assume your assistant is here to read the novel to summon the Distortion? I doubt that a fledgeling and uneducated Archivist would have much use in this little menage a trois.”

“Hey, I’m his friend, not assistant, and- this is not a menage a trois! And- what is this place?”

Aizen gives him a leering smile.

“Stop teasing him, Sousuke-san. Neither of us is the kind of exclusive edition that _you_ can collect.”

“Ah, spoiling my fun, as always. As to the question - we are in the Panopticon.”

Kisuke stills, then nods. “I would prefer elsewhere, but in the worst-case scenario… I will _need_ this seat of power. Now, if you would be so kind as to show Ichigo what to read? We do not have much time to waste, especially if _he_ is able to take a look into here.”

With a sigh, Aizen pulls out a book from his bag, a small red thing. Ichigo can see dozens of coloured tabs sticking out, marking pages. Aizen flicks to one of them but does not look down at the page itself.

“This is an English translation of the original, an… experiment I did to see if the books could be _controlled_. It is much less potent than the original, but I would not recommend reading more than this one page.”

“Does it need to be read aloud?”

“I would rather you not.” Aizen pulls out a different book, the title in a language Ichigo does not recognise. “I am ready. Let us begin.”

Cautiously, Ichigo looks down at the page. It is hand-written in a clear, precise cursive script.

He reads of a performance act in some sort of… show? circus? Where a member of the audience walks into a doorframe set in the air, but does not appear from the other side. Instead-

He blinks, overtaken by vertigo as strange imprints of spirals dance in front of his eyes, and the book is snapped shut in front of his eyes, as a hand grips his shoulder and steadies him.

Kisuke is holding the book, steading Ichigo, looking concerned.

And behind him, in the middle of the room, is a door-frame, in front of which stands an annoyed-looking Szayel. He looks like he’s- fighting, something, as he is pulled through, and the door disappears.

He looks- different. Shorter, his face not as Ichigo remembers it, something oddly familiar in it.

“Well, well. The Book-Collector, the Archivist, and the… oh _hello_ former Archivist. It has been a _while_. I was wondering if your friend had gone mad even without my influence, but apparently he is sane. Or _was_.” His voice is _wrong_ , like two people are speaking at one, two different, dissonant voices coming out at once.

Kisuke straightens, passing Ichigo’s book back to retrieve the blank spiral-bound one, as Ichigo _reels_. It- of course, the earlier remarks make sense now, duh. But Kisuke as the former Archivist- how? How is that possible if he managed to leave the Institute’s employ when no matter how hard any of them try, they never can?

And Kisuke, Kisuke the _former Archivist_...

“I strongly suggest giving him back, Distortion.”

Szayel giggles. “But why would I do that? But, alas, even if I wanted to, I can not give you what you want.”

Is his hair looking more purple than pink? Did he just get _shorter?_

“You put him in the tunnels. You have enough power over them to release _him_.” Ichigo glares at the monster.

“You misunderstand. It is too late. He had screamed and cried and begged for you to come for him, _oh_ -so-delightfully, and was quite perfect. Unfortunately, he’s spent so long with you,” Szayel gestures at Kisuke, “That he rather managed to start getting his wits about him after some… oh, I believe his tunnels run at months to an hour ratio. He started to get himself together in the end, started to remember about _anchors…_ Well.”

Ice floods into Ichigo’s veins at that _smile_ , twisted and wrong with far too many teeth. At that face, morphing and changing with the rest of Szayel to form a new one.

“He was a _delicious_ meal, in quite a literal sense,” says Szayel with Mayuri’s voice and face and form, twisted and distorted around the edges, blue hair in unnatural tight curls that did nor resemble the ruler-straight hair of the original. “I don’t see why you care so much. You have a younger, better partner in the new Archivist.”

Kisuke is standing perfectly still, frozen. But when he speaks his voice is perfectly calm and pleasant.

“Ah. I already regret what I am about to do, but, I think, you will regret it more. It would be easier to do this in the Panopticon, but...” The tone of the last word is icy, and now Ichigo can hear the resemblance, a little bit, to some of the tapes. Like the one about Sannikov land. He has a very bad feeling about this. Kisuke clears his throat and stands up straight.

There’s a familiar click of a tape recorder.

“Your archive is returned to serve,” Kisuke says, ever so softly. Something _changes_.

Ichigo feels- watched, as though a hundred thousand eyes have opened and turned towards him, as something big and unfathomable has turned its entire attention to what is going on in this room. Something- around Kisuke _breaks_ , like a mist or illusion and Ichigo suddenly knows that, for the first time, what he is seeing is his _real face_ , that this is his real voice, that he can _recognise_ them and there’s no hint of _a stranger_ there any more.

Aizen _curses_ , and Kisuke- Ichigo thinks it’s Kisuke, at least, although the staticky, echoing voice is all _wrong._

“ _You, the observer, knower, who does not understand, the listener who hears and can not comprehend, the one who waits and waits and devours all that is not yours by right._

 _Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this_ wretched thing _, and seize it, drink it,_ drain it from this vessel, _for your feast as you await the day that comes when all that is the dread and terror and the suffering shall rule this land under your one great eye_ , and-” Kisuke cuts himself off, hands reaching up to cover his mouth and stop the words that seem to want to keep spilling out on their own.

Szayel _screams_ , looking up at something on the ceiling.

For a second where Ichigo just can’t _help_ looking, he sees- an eye, looking at them.

The screaming grows in sound and pitch and Ichigo claps his hands over his ears to block out as the Distortion seems to burn and _break_ , something like _layers_ sloughing off under the intense gaze of that massive _eye_ where there was once a ceiling, like an insect being burned by a magnifying glass focusing the rays of the sun upon it.

The room around them is _shaking_ from the struggle between the powers, and dust would be falling off the ceiling if there still was one.

And then it stops.

There’s a gently smoking figure left lying on the ground where the Distortion stood, coughing faintly. Ichigo approaches, cautiously, and tries to _know_ , and-

It’s Mayuri, nothing left but him, and perhaps a little less of him than there used. Szayel hadn’t really started _digesting_ him.

“We should get out. _Now_.” Aizen sounds terrified. “Whatever you did… This changes things, and I doubt for the better.”

“We should.” Kisuke murmurs, voice hoarse. “Ichigo, can you…”

“I’ll carry him.”

* * *

They run through the corridors, Aizen muttering passages of his books out under his breath, the corridors twisting and changing until they are the surface much, much faster than they got to the Panopticon.

It’s still dark out, still night, as they stand, panting, in the cold spring air.

“We should all go to ground,” Aizen mutters. “Maybe what you did just gave the Beholding a little bit of indigestion or something, but the humans in these situations are never that lucky.”

Kisuke is quiet, for a moment, and then sighs. “At least, I am… now certain I know what Bach is working towards.”

“The Watcher’s Crown, yes, I-”

Kisuke shakes his head, grim. “No. His grand ritual will bring forth _all_ the powers, because a ritual for just one will not, _can not_ work. The Institute is part of that plan.”

“Well, at least… we can stop worrying about the smaller rituals. If they can never work.”

“Indeed. Thank you for your aid, Sousuke-san. Good luck with your continued survival.”

“And the same to you. I wish your friend… I would say a full recovery, but… Well, I hope for the best outcome.”

“Thank you.”

Aizen vanishes off into the night, leaving Ichigo and Kisuke to figure out how to get Mayuri home _without_ having the police called on them.

Maybe they could very loudly complain about what a lightweight their partner is?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are welcome and much appreciated, and help me write!
> 
> Here's a link to [Cywscross' UraIchi Discord Server](https://discordapp.com/invite/ADFnKTZ#_=_)!


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